Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Sea Without Light Part 17

When Gui Xin stood in front of the Investigation Bureau, she felt as if she had just escaped from one trap and fell right into another.

In the morning, she entered the city’s sewage system through a secret passageway at the bottom of a wardrobe in a safe house, climbed up from a manhole cover several blocks away, and then took a hover tram.

Hei Hai City was a coastal city with a well-developed drainage system. The sewers were wide enough for two cars to run side by side. Although there had been heavy rain recently which raised the water levels, the rains had stopped today, and the water had slowly receded.

To avoid getting the smell on her, Gui Xin specifically summoned Silverface, asking him to create a water barrier to isolate the stench and direct the dirty water away to deliver her safely to her destination.

She sighed softly, “I always seem to discover new uses for my extraordinary abilities every time I’m with you…”

Whether it was washing dishes, vegetables, watering plants, or mopping the floor, these simple tasks demonstrated her capability to use water as a protective barrier against odors.

After Gui Xin took a seat on the electric tram, Silverface left.

Earlier that morning, when Red sent her a message while she was sleeping at five am, he instructed her to come to work normally, reassuring her not to worry about the traitor’s report since he had found some clues already.

Gui Xin’s reason for coming to work that day was not because of Red but because she needed to make a choice. If she were to go missing while avoiding work, the Investigation Bureau would have suspicions. If those behind last night’s incident were from the bureau themselves, they could deduce her true identity from her disappearance. This would turn suspicion into certainty, leaving her only with the option of taking the risk.

Gui Xin was a core member of Mechanized Dawn, but she didn’t know exactly how much value she held within the organization. Was her life more important than the identity of an undercover agent or the information she possessed? Would Mechanized Dawn sacrifice her to preserve either?

If all her value hinged on her status as a mole, losing that would mean losing her value entirely. An unvalued person wouldn’t be protected, and thus she might be discarded.

With Mechanized Dawn’s ironclad and ruthless nature known to her, Gui Xin couldn’t afford to lose her significance.

As for fleeing, Gui Xin had thought about it, but she knew it wasn’t feasible. Her biological data and accounts were under Mechanized Dawn’s control. Chai Jian had fled from a mental hospital, but in this highly advanced society, living in hiding was impossible. Surveillance cameras watched the city, and high-tech equipment searched for his whereabouts. In a cashless society, even buying food was a challenge.

From Chai Jian’s situation, Gui Xin could predict what facing the outside world would entail.

Adding to that, Gui Xin faced pursuers. Silverface seemed foolish but was also a competent assassin. His obedience stemmed from her being his superior, a core member of Mechanized Dawn. If Gui Xin escaped, Silverface would certainly not spare her; instead, he would become the knife aimed at her back.

Her role as an intern security officer and a member of Mechanized Dawn was her protection in the Second World.

Until she gained enough strength to protect herself, she must play the part and maintain her identity.

“Welcome back, intern security officer Gui Xin,” Augus greeted her as she entered.

“Good morning, Xiao Gui,” Lan Lan said behind her.

“Morning, Lan Lan,” Gui Xin looked back.

“Your dark circles are quite severe. Did you not sleep well last night?” Lan Lan asked worriedly.

“Yes, almost stayed up the whole night,” Gui Xin yawned and walked towards the elevator.

“If you want some coffee, I can make you a cup to keep you awake,” Lan Lan offered.

“No need, it’s too bitter,” Gui Xin pressed the elevator button, “There are tea bags in the rest room, I’ll make myself a cup.”

Lan Lan chuckled, “Is that because you’re nervous before your interview?”

“It’s partly due to that,” Gui Xin sighed.

The elevator had an electronic screen showing 07:58. The working hours for the Investigation Bureau started at eight. A little after an hour, she would have to undergo an interview.

Gui Xin stepped out of the elevator, and her communicator beeped once in her pocket.

Lan Lan’s communicator also rang; she checked it and responded, “Augus sent me a message about the work schedule for today… Great, no tasks, no fieldwork required.”

Typically, when a team member needed to perform emergency missions, Augus would notify everyone via the internal broadcast from the Investigation Bureau right away. Without urgent tasks, daily job schedules and training plans were sent to individual members’ devices for review via email.

Gui Xin opened her own email and found the schedule included an interview.

No training, no field duty, just an interview.

Failing the interview meant losing this job. Hence, other task arrangements were unnecessary.

“I’ll be sitting on duty in the tech room, good luck with your interview,” Lan Lan raised her hand with encouragement.

It took Gui Xin a moment to realize why Lan Lan was offering a high-five, so she also lifted her hand.

“Clap!” Their hands met.

Lan Lan turned to leave, and Gui Xin considered whether to spend her spare hour practicing her firearms skills in area A or to get some rest in the rest room.

Before she finalized her decision, Augus said, “Intern security officer Gui Xin, your interview time has changed. Please report immediately to room 5313 on the fifth floor.”

Gui Xin asked, confused, “Why did it change?”

“There’s a temporary work assignment. Please go straightaway to interview room 5313,” Augus replied.

“Alright.” Gui Xin turned around and pressed the elevator button.

Temporary tasks and emergency situations were common at the Investigation Bureau. Perhaps there was a conflict between Gui Xin’s interview time and some other arrangement leading to the time change.

As the elevator rose,Gui Xin calmly regulated her breathing. Once the door opened, she smoothly walked out onto the hallway.

“Please follow the green guide lights to reach room 5313,” Augus directed Gui Xin.

After walking down a long corridor, Gui Xin halted in front of room 5313. The metal door silently opened, and she walked inside.

The room was equipped with a black long table with four people seated behind it—two men and two women.

One man with half-gray hair and a steady gaze, a young man dressed in a suit with well-combed hair and gold rimmed glasses, a strict middle-aged woman who exuded the demeanor of a teacher, and an elegantly styled red-haired woman with a mature demeanor.

Gui Xin instantly compared them to the notes in her mind. The man with half-gray hair was Chen Dongchang, the head of logistics support. The young man with the gold-rimmed glasses was Gong Zian, the head of the IT team. The middle-aged woman, who reminded Gui Xin of a high school teacher, was Wei Zhi, the head of field operations, whom both Gui Xin and Shu Xueyao reported directly to.

The last red-haired woman was the renowned criminal investigation team leader Jiang Meimei.

“Are you Gui Xin?” asked Wei Zhi, “Go ahead, sit down.”

“Yes, hello to all of you team leaders.” Gui Xin sat down in front of the interviewing officers.

Wei Zhi nodded and said bluntly, “Shu Xueyao submitted your application for regularization. I reviewed your probation period results, which were excellent, but whether you remain here at the Investigation Bureau depends on your upcoming interview.”

“I understand. I’m ready,” Gui Xin stated.

Wei Zhi didn’t just resemble Gui Xin’s high school teacher in demeanor but in speech as well. This made Gui Xin naturally feel a bit tense despite having adjusted her emotions initially.

She recalled the anxiety filled years of her senior year in high school, and the fear of being startled awake by seeing the teacher’s face close to hers after dozing off in class, a memory that still haunted her.

Jiang Meimei laughed, saying, “Don’t be so tense, relax. Just answer our questions. It’s just like casual conversation.”

This manner reminded Gui Xin of Dr. Yang Xinliu from the Psychological Therapy Office. They looked somewhat similar… Could they possibly be related?

Chen Dongchang, head of the logistics support team, asked, “How do you find adjusting to work at the Investigation Bureau, Gui Xin?”

He could appear quite imposing when silent, yet conversational in speech, as though he was a familiar figure, an uncle or an elder.

Gui Xin felt slightly relaxed now.

She would speak honestly, sticking to the truth.

“The overall adjustment is okay. Most jobs are manageable,” Gui Xin remarked, “However, for certain ones where it’s my first time, they aren’t perfected, nor are my approaches always optimal.”

“Do you want to stay on as a security officer?” Chen Dongchang asked.

“Yes.” Gui Xin chose her words carefully, “But it’s a job that occasionally carries great risks. Sometimes I worry about injury or survival…”

Jiang Meimei interrupted, “Do you think you can stay on despite such risks?”

“In fairness, I think being a security officer is a fantastic job—high salary, ample promotion space, and supportive colleagues…” Gui Xin answered honestly.

Had Gui Xin lived in the First World, securing a government post would have been a dream come true. As an official department belonging to the Federation, the Investigation Bureau offered significantly better remuneration compared to other places. For Gui Xin, this was almost the perfect option if she hailed from the Second World.

“We’ve reviewed the background information of your family,” Gong Zian, head of the IT team, said, “Did you take out loans for college?”

“My financial condition isn’t great…” Although Gui Xin appeared to be answering, her response deviated from the question asked.

She refrained from giving a clear affirmative or negative answer.

Gong Zian pointed out sternly, “Your motivation for wanting to work here is financial gain, right?”

Gui Xin pondered for a moment, “Given my family’s economic position, I understand fully how crucial it is to have a stable and remunerative job… However, compensation isn’t the main reason why I want to stay.”

“Tell me more.” Gong Zian prompted.

“Staying here is the best choice for me. In my current position, I can expand both my knowledge and my network, receive a salary, and work beside considerate colleagues. Aside from the dangers and stress inherent in the job, I find everything else satisfactory. Finding an equally advantageous opportunity would be difficult, so staying here is my priority,” Gui Xin smiled faintly, “Sorry, I might sound blunt, but I am a practical person.”

“A majority of us here practice pragmatism, same goes for me.” Gong Zian adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, “While ideals may shine brightly, grounding oneself is essential for sustained progress.”

The demeanor of the four interviewers remained composed, indicating to Gui Xin that she had been coherent in her responses without drawing any suspicion.

Considering herself a time traveler, she could share parts of the truth. Had she not been a traveler and been her original self, the answers to the previous questions would have been far different.

Gong Zian asked for the reasons behind her willingness to stay, but she could not say, “I joined as an undercover agent, hence I wish to stay.”

Such a straightforward statement could never hold, and lies, particularly concerning supernatural abilities and high-tech lie detectors, often revealed themselves.

Chen Dongchang stated, “We have a set standard to determine if intern staff qualifies for a permanent position, one key element being psychological evaluation.”

“You mean pressure resistance and mental health?” Gui Xin questioned.

“Yes,” Chen Dongchang’s voice was deep, “You should be aware of the danger that comes with our line of work. I heard you were injured and underwent surgery with a metal skull.”

“A metal skull provides excellent protection,” Gui Xin affirmed.

“The Federation allocates significant funds annually to the Investigation Bureau, primarily used for the treatment of the injured and the families of the deceased. This job is intertwined with death,” Chen Dongchang spoke, “We need to know if you can withstand such pressures mentally.”

“I believe I can handle it,” Gui Xin responded, “I haven’t experienced the death of a teammate but have seen the death of an enemy. Recalling that scene now, I’m much calmer.”

Wei Zhi locked eyes with Gui Xin, “Your file mentions that you killed criminals in Peaceful Street.”

“Yes,” Gui Xin confirmed this directly since it indeed had happened, requiring no ambiguity.

“I overreacted,” she recounted, “The best course of action was not lethal force. I understand this now.”

“You killed an escaped mental patient named Chai Jian?” Wei Zhi inquired.

“That’s right.” Gui Xin replied.

“How did you feel during the first kill?” Wei Zhi asked.

Before Gui Xin responded, Jiang Mei Mei, standing beside Zhi, remarked, “If you find recalling traumatic, you can decline. It is understandable that reliving such events is distressing.”

Gui Xin hesitated before proceeding, “Panicked, confused, terrified, surreal… and somewhat repulsed.”

“What distinguishes the second experience from the first?” Wei Zhi continued, “Feeling more hesitant?”

“More so… Yet, I acted more assertively and consciously pulled the trigger, thoroughly contemplating and judging before deciding to end Chai Jian’s life,” Gui Xin murmured, “I do not regret my actions.”

Wei Zhi softened her tone, “Respecting life is commendable. Excessive rationality breeds coldness, intense emotion turns weak. It’s crucial for you to navigate that boundary.”

“I understand, thank you for your reminder,” Gui Xin whispered.

“Don’t forget, you’ve also been to a psychotherapy session,” Jiang Meimei said, “Was the counseling session helpful?”

“Of course, Director Yang was very supportive. Talking to him was calming—his decor was beautiful. You know, if I ever have my own office, I’d consider incorporating his style,” Gui Xin joked, adding with a laugh.

Gui Xin thought about it, “What you’re referring to…”

“Xenomorphs…” Wei Zhi stated, “What you encountered during your missions was just a minor form among many other dangerous xenomorph species out there. They possess greater peril and more terrifying capabilities.”

“Come see them, Gui Xin. This world holds many secrets beyond your imagination,”